My Name Is Bella Swan
by intoxicatingscent56
Summary: Bella, a 30 year-old pastry chef is dumped by her boyfriend on Christmas Eve. She meets Edward Cullen, 27, an arrogant restaurant owner, in the most uncomfortable way ever. He needs a patissier immediately. What happens when she's also hired as his gf?
1. Chapter 1

Hi every one! For this story to work, Bella has to be 3 years older than Edward. She's 30, so she lived longer than Edward, and therefore have more experiences, which will be revealed in the further chapters...

Enjoy reading! =)

_**Chapter 1**_

_**Christmas Eve  
**_

**BPOV**

_December 24, 2008_

Here I am, dressed like the men in black, with a full on black coat, black stocking, a scarf around my head, and sunglasses to cover my eyes. Although the sunglasses doesn't really help my sight, since I'm currently stalking on the 11th floor of the hotel where I landed after following my dearest boyfriend – without him knowing.

Lurking around, I made sure nobody can see me. Not that I didn't like my attire. I don't really care. I just don't want people to see me.

Standing right in front of the door where I saw him walking in. I just feel so shocked. He isn't supposed to be here.

"Without hesitation, you cheat on me?! I'll show you how horrifying it is to be mess around with Isabella Swan.. Today, you'll die and I'll live." I said loudly and threateningly, talking to myself. I can never get rid of my habit of speaking my thoughts out loud.

I knocked, and suddenly the door opened.

I was faced with a very astonished, wide-eyed James, who seemed to be scared of me. Of course, who wouldn't be scared. I had my pocket knife ready in front of me, threatening him.

He continued to walk backwards, looking around, while he blurted out, stuttering, "Why.. why are you here?"

"Last year, Christmas, were you with another woman?" I pressed.

"No... That day was my father's company's anniversary party." He continued backing away from me.

"Then how about the Christmas the year before that?"

"That day was also my father's company's…. You know that it was…."

"Then how about today? What are you doing here, in a hotel room., instead of being at your father's party? Wouldn't he be missing you? After all, you never bailed out on his party, why start now?"

He looked me, his eyes widening more. I continued. "Oh what do we do? Today is December 24, memory loss is so popular these days. You're the one that said that green tea is good for the memory. From now on, drink a lot of green tea, you bastard!!"

"What's wrong with you? Are you drunk?!"

"Don't ask me what's wrong with me. Tell me what you did!"

He suddenly regained his composure. "Bella, your something is wrong with your mind. Deal with it or else you will never heal.. Now let's breathe. Inhale…" He inhales as if demonstrating a kindergarten child how to inhale. "Exhale… Now deeply.."

"Stop talking bull shit."

"Hey. How can you say such harsh words?! The way you talk shows what kind of person you really are, Bella, if you continue talking like that – "

"Stop kidding around!" I yelled.

"What happened to you? Who is it? Who made you like this? " He gripped my shoulder, shaking me as if to wake me up from a dream.

"I'm going to break you apart!!" With that, I flailed my arms, posing as to stab him.

"Excuse me" a loud voice said behind my back. I turned around quickly, the room service waiter destructing my daydream. "If you're not going in, please move" he continued. I realized I've just been imagining the whole exchange. I was standing here the whole time. For how long, that I don't know.

The guy pressed the doorbell, while a familiar voice from the room asked who it was. I panicked. I started running away when suddenly; I found my face meeting one of my best friends – the floor. I did my best to hide myself, to no avail. After all, how can I hide myself, just 5 meters away from the very spot I was standing a while ago. I crawled, trying to recover my bag without attracting attention.

Before I knew it, the door opened. I just laid down face down on the floor, hoping that he won't notice me. I felt footsteps coming my way. Damn it! Why does my klutziness decides to appear now, of all freaking times?!

I felt his presence, kneeling beside me. "Bella" He tapped my back. "Stand up. Or do you want to spend the night here?"

I didn't move.

"Hurry… Get up. We have something to talk about." He said calmly, not even shocked that I was here, lying in the middle of the hallway of a hotel, where I wasn't supposed to be.

"How can I get up?" I said without lifting my head, my voice teary, wailing.

"Do you want me to help you?"

I lifted my face to look his face. "How can I get up when I'm so embarrassed?!!" I sobbed.

**********

We are now sitting in the elegant restaurant of the hotel, Christmas carols filling the air. Of course, this hotel is one of the best. A 5-star hotel. Why would he settle for less?

"How long have you known?" He asked looking at me.

I can't look at his eyes so I just stared on the round, coffee like table while I answered "A month ago."

"How?"

"I saw the text messages in your phone."

"Did you perhaps use a GPS to locate where I was?"

I just nodded.

He sighed. "Then how come you didn't say anything for a month?"

"I didn't know what to do."

"For a month, you lied to me." I can't stop myself from looking him in the eyes. He continued "You even looked through my phone and even stalked me with a GPS and now you come to my hotel?"

"My man has changed. If I don't do all those things, would I be your girlfriend? It's been a while since you've changed. If I called you, you hang up in second. You wouldn't reply to my texts and you made excuses all the time, saying that you're busy, just because you didn't want to meet me. Because I went to your place without me telling you beforehand… Do you remember how mad you got? And today is Christmas eve and you left me by myself so what am I supposed to do?! Should I just wait until you call me?"

"So… do you feel betrayed?"

"Yes."

"Do you resent me?"

"Yes."

"You lost faith in me too?"

"Yes."

"So it can't be the same as before."

"Of course not."

"Then let's break up."

I looked at him like he was crazy.

He continued. "I didn't want to break up like this but I guess there is nothing I can do about it. During the time we were together, I apologize for not paying attention to you. I'm sorry. I won't explain everything to you."

"Then do you love the other girl?"

"No."

"Don't you like me anymore?

"No."

"Then why?" I yelled. My voice getting louder enough for the surrounding table to hear me. But at this point, I don't care anymore.

"Tell me you fool! What is your reason?"

"Just because we broke up, I don't think its necessary that you act that way." He was still calm, like we're talking about the weather and nothing serious that will change our lives completely.

"A long time ago, you said you like it when I say insults. Every time I said insults you said it was fun, you douche bag!"

A man behind me broke into a fit of laughter, but to he also stopped immediately. But who cares about him? I'm having the most important conversation of my life now.

"This isn't a stadium. Lower your voice an octave."

"There's nothing else I care about right now. There is nothing else I can see. What is your reason? Hurry up and tell me!! Everyone knows you dumped me James so say it short and simple so I can understand! Don't say words in a hard way, just say it simply so I can understand.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, while massaging his forehead like he was the one experiencing discomfort.

"You know what, let's talk when you've cooled down. Sorry, I can't take you home."

He stood up and started walking away from me. The tears I repressed the whole time started pouring. I stood up, and yelled at him, willing him to answer me. "Did you even love me?"

He stopped walking and turned around to look in my eyes. I continued sobbing "The three years we've been together, you've never told me you loved me. Did you love me?"

He walked back slowly. "I loved you." He paused. "I love you, the girl with blushing cheeks. The one who said she would become the world's best party chef. The girl who searched all over Paris for a bakery – I loved her. She had lots of dreams, was outgoing and determined who always carried a sweet sugary scent with her – I loved her. But – my love stops here. What am I suppose to do? I'm sorry. It's only up to here." He then walked away.

We had all the people's attention, and one customer even clapped her hands. When she realized she was the only one, she stopped.

He left me there on my own, crying to myself, staring after him.

I found myself on the rooftop of the hotel, staring in the beautiful view of Seattle at night.

"James, don't forget me. I don't mind dying. But not being in your mind, I can't handle it. You have to be happy." With this, I dived off the building. "I love you James". Somehow I managed to stop in front of a window of the 11th floor, hanging upside down, as if I was being held by the feet. I was staring at James' naked form making love to another woman, when glanced up and saw me outside the window.

He was shocked for the lack of a better word. "You thought I'd say this!" He backed off the mystery woman. I continued speaking " With these eyes I'm going to follow you forever. Every night I'm going to appear in your dreams. When I found out you were cheating on me, do you know how much I cried? Now it's your turn. Try suffering for once and see how painful it is. And think to yourself – Why did I leave this girl? You will regret it forever. You call this love? I'm not sorry. Goodbye. I loved you until I was about to go crazy. You bastard!"

With that, the hidden force that seemed to hold me up on the same level as his window let me go and I fell.

What good will this do? Even if my parents die, I will be too busy working and living. And if his girlfriend leaves him, we will be like the same. Whatever I do… what will make him remember me forever.

I realized I was sitting again at the same spot where we were talking before, crying my eyes out. I ran to the toilet as fast as I can and hid myself in one of the stalls. I took my coat of, and my white blouse, leaving me with a think beige tank top. I hung my bag on the hook on the door but it kept on falling, pissing me more than I already am.

I just sat down on the toilet bowl and started crying out loud.

There was once a time where in this world, I was the main character. It felt as if I was walking on clouds, my heart always pounding. That feeling was good. As if our love reached up the skies. One man came who gave me that happiness, but just like that, he left. The reason why I'm crying right now is not because I lost him. Love… the thing that was once burning now lost and gone was unbelievable.

I heard two knocks on my door. I was still crying very loudly. The knocking continued.

"Knock. Knock"

"There's someone here." I sobbed.

"Knock. Knock"

"There's someone here." I repeated.

"There's someone here I said." I yelled, crying.

"Knock. Knock"

"Are you deaf?! There's someone in here!! I just got dumped so there's nothing I see!" I screamed now, really angry to whoever inconsiderate woman it is disturbing me while I'm still in this condition. I continued wailing.

"Knock. Knock"

"Go away".

"Knock. Knock"

"What the hell –" I opened the door, pissed with this person, but as I opened the door, instead of telling off this person as I have planned to, I was faced with a man, instead of the woman I was expecting. Mind you, not just an ordinary man - an extremely gorgeous bronzed haired guy with the greenest sparking eyes I've ever seen. His coat was wet from what I could see.

I tried to look around him, as he was blocking my view of the rest of the room.

"What are you, a pervert? He asked me, his face masked with indifference. His gaze went down my breasts, but quickly reverted back to my eyes.

"or… are you just resting for a little while in the men restroom?"

I looked down my half exposed breasts, tried to block it with my hands, stepped back and slammed the door shut.

Oh. My. Gosh. What had I gotten myself into??

**********

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	2. Chapter 2

Forgive my grammar mistakes.

_**Chapter 2**_

_**Pastry Chef**_

**EPOV**

When the door opened, I was faced by a crying woman, black tears all over her face.

What she was doing in the men's toilet, God knows. But being dumped doesn't justify her actions. It's disturbing the rest of the guests and the hotel will gain a bad reputation.

When she hid from her cubicle, I returned to the purpose of my visit in this toilet. I stood in front of the mirror, cleaning myself from the mess my blind date has created. Wiping my face and running my hands through my hair, I once again knocked on the crying woman's stall.

"On a day like this, if a guy left the girl, the game is over. Next time don't reason them why. Just hit and run. In life, there are all kinds of men, but men are men. The same with women."

Remembering how I got in this situation….

*****

"_It's been a while since you've changed. If I called you, you hang up in seconds. You wouldn't reply to my texts and you made excuses all the time, saying that you're busy, just because you didn't want to meet me."_

"Oh… she doesn't realize quickly. If he doesn't answer her calls, it's already over. Am I right?" I told the woman, sitting on the opposite side of me.

"That's that, I guess… Well, the job you're doing right now. It must be fun." My blind date said. What's her name again? I really can't bother to remember. After all, I'll make sure I won't see her again.

"Do we work for fun? We work to eat and live."

"Yeah… But when are you thinking about going back to the hotel? Your mother seems to be looking for you."

I twisted my neck slightly to my right side, more interested with the conversation of the couple – if you can still call them that – behind my back.

"Oh no… The guy says the y should break up first. Did she just realize this now?

"_Do you like the other girl?"_ The loud woman behind my back said.

"That's nothing for her to know." I said, slightly talking to my date but really talking to myself.

"_Then why? Tell me you fool! What is your reason? A long time ago, you said you like it when I say insults. Every time I said insults you said it was fun, you douche bag!"_

I can't help but break into fits of laughter but I was cut immediately when I felt cold water splashed all over my face. I can't believe this woman has the guts to spill the water all over me!

"You don't know the rumors about you, do you? You are clumsy, you over do things… If you don' t want to date, then figure things out at your house with your mother and not make girls wait on you." She grabbed her bag and jacket and left me sitting there.

"_Did you even love me?"_

I turned to look at the now broken up couple. I couldn't see her face since she was facing her ex-boyfriend.

"_The three years we've been together, you've never told me you loved me. Did you love me?"_

I smirked. What kind of woman wants to embarrass herself willingly in public? Why does she have to yell that one?

**********

I left the hotel with the taxi waiting for me.

**********

I started my day with a quick lap in the pool my apartment building owns, just to keep myself in figure. I went through my morning routine, and wore a blue long sleeve with a black and white stripped coat and pants. After all, the an owner of the restaurant always have to look their best.

As usual, I arrived at _'Bon Appetit'_ with a taxi, and I was greeted by all my staff.

"Good morning!" I greeted Jasper and Carmen, both of them standing in front of the baking counter.

Jasper Whitlock, 35 years old , is my head chef,. He maybe in his 30s but his looks still qualifies him in his late 20s. Carmen, in her 40s, is my family's close friend, and also the manager of my restaurant.

"It's not a good morning" Jasper replied. "Charlotte left for Paris this morning.

"Her mother died of heart attack." Carmen continued.

"When did she say she can come back?" I asked, getting worried.

"That's the problem, She's not coming back. What do we do?" Jasper asked, his voice full of worry.

**BPOV**

Fully dressed for my interview, I approached the receptionist of the place I was called for an interview.

"Hi. I'm Bella Swan."

"Right. I have here in my list an Isabella Swan. They're waiting for you. That way please."

I entered a typical office and approach the guy who I'm having an interview with. He didn't even let me sit, and he just started talking as soon as I was near enough to hear him. He's maybe in his late 40s and he's not attractive at all.

"You're father is dead, out of three children, you're the third daughter. Do you have a parent?"

"Yes, my mother."

"You went to cooking school and you… what is this?"

"Oh, that is a school in Paris, it's been there for over 100 years and I studied there."

"Anyway, you don't have a job?"

"Oh. That is… right now I'm resting. But I usually get called to work so I'm going to be getting a job very soon."

"So… Isabella Swan." He broke into a short laugh. "You're name is a little weird. Anyway, did you fix your face?"

"100% natural"

"Look at this, you have no conscience. How can you live in this country without doing anything with your face?

"What?!" My voice became higher. "What kind of company is this?!"

"Do you think you can get married like that? Here, watch this." He slammed a DVD on the table. "In this movie, it says it is harder to meet a woman under the age of 30 than to meet a total bomb. Out of all famous sayings, you can consider this the best. Whatever you said before didn't go in my head. Anyway, why don't you go home, wash your feet and watch this movie. And don't even dream about getting married.

I took the DVD in my hand. "If they were to remake this movie, they would have to fix 30 – 40 scenes. Today's 30 and the past's 20 is the same thing.

He stood up, matching my height. "That's what women think but you have to realize men think differently. Women _have_ to be pretty and young."

"Oh… Is that right huh? Do you men not get old too? Does your stomach not droop down? Think positive you old man. And I'm fat? Yeah, I'm fat, making cakes and chocolates is my job. Do you think I wouldn't be? And you say I'm a person with no job? Is that my fault? Is it?! People like you, tell them all to come out!!" I'm lost my temper now and I'm yelling so loudly that I'm sure all the people in that office can hear me.

"BANG"

I felt my head hit something. The wall of the waiting room to be precise. I've been dreaming again. Just in time, I saw the guy, just like in my dreams, approach me.

"Yes. I came to a conclusion that we should hold on until we find the right guy for you. "

"What does that mean?" I asked, confused.

"Until you get picked, you will need to wait."

"So this means it will be very expensive to wait?"

"Yeah."

"How much will it be?"

"It will be 100$ per month."

I woke up again, now sitting in a bus, next to the window, with a small cake box on my lap. What kind of dream was that? Suddenly, I noticed a small advertisement stuck on the back of the chair, right in front of me, with the picture of the man just like in my dream, advertising a company that looks for your compatible partner.

"What? Giving 100$ to those people and having to wait for they don't even know how long. Ha. That's nonsense."

**EPOV**

I entered my Elizabeth's hotel, following her and Maggie, a relative who's also an assistant at the same time.

"You're going to buy a bakery for our needs?" Elizabeth asked.

"Because of her mother's death, she said she will not come back to work again. Until we can get a new pastry chef, we will need to borrow yours."

"Our restaurant was picked in the top 5 out of Seattle, because it has good quality and it's expensive. "

"For now, we will not get any profits." I replied.

"We need to get a hotel and get a French chef for our restaurant." She quipped.

"One more thing, the owner and kitchen workers are also French."

"Anyways, they don't fit our needs so we can't use them, and you're not even making the food. So why do you need a pastry chef? That's why it's not surprising my company is laughing at you" she scolded me.

"In France, bakery is the most important thing. I don't make fake food."

Arriving at the front of the elevators, I pressed the button going up.

"Showing off, it's because you are over confident."

We entered the elevator and we three were alone.

She started talking again. "Next week, Mr. Mallory's daughter is getting married. The lady you were with last Christmas eve."

"I don't have to go, do I?"

"When are you planning to get married? Next year Nessie will start kindergarten. Don't you think she needs an aunt to take her to school?"

"I will do that, and I will go to the parent meetings. So don't worry about it."

"If you don't want to go on meetings, then get married."

"We're almost there. Please give me the pastry chef."

"I already told you this before. Chris said we can't so there's nothing we can do about it."

"Chris likes me so just give him a call."

She moved so quickly that I didn't have the chance to dodger her painful slap on my shoulder.

"When are you going to get your act together?! What do you think people will say about a 5 star hotel owner's son, leaving and opening his own restaurant?" She screamed at me. Arrgghh!! I'm gonna be deaf one of these days..

"Mom does the hotel job while son does the food jobs."

"Are you making jokes about your mom?" I received another round of hits on my shoulder and I put my arms up to cover my face. She's really pissed now.

She continued hitting me. "Do you think you can do this on your own?"

"If you keep on hitting me, I don't think I can do this any longer!" I finally retaliated.

"What?! What are you going to do huh? What are you going to do?!" She screamed so loudly. All this time, Maggie was staring ahead quietly, as if my ass is not being beaten up.

The elevator door suddenly opened. We all straightened up as if nothing happened. As soon as the door closed, she resumed her assault on me, when I finally reached my limit, I caught both her wrists, and she tried to escape to no avail.

"Ohh. Let go! You're not letting go?!"

"Ohh.. Why did you suddenly shrink?"

We finally reached our destination and walked toward the executive's office.

"If you don't have luck with your husband, I heard you don't have luck with your child." She complained.

"Instead you have luck with money."

"Oh gosh. I can't live because of you. You're so disgusting. I wonder where you came from."

"From beneath Elizabeth's legs" I replied, smirking, looking away from her.

"Get married before the end of this year." She stated.

"Hurry and give Chris a call."

"I'm going to tell on you to your older brother." She turned around and walked towards her office.

"Tell him I said hi."

I walked to Maggie's desk, outside Liz's office. "There's nothing wrong with President Cullen, right?"

Maggie answered monotonously "Not really. How much longer are you going to be riding in the taxi? If you're still afraid to drive, why don't go get a personal driver like your mother said."

"It's okay. It's better than you think. "

**BPOV**

"You've been working at a very good place for 2-3 years. Why did you suddenly leave?" the interviewer asked me.

"Hmmn. What should I say? I will put it like the work is different than the life I'm living in."

"What do you mean by life?"

"Um… That is… I think the person making the food is part of the food. So that means, I would have to live an excellent life. But this Christmas eve, I've experienced a lost in my life. A girl who lost her love wouldn't be able to make a sweet cake."

"So on the busiest day at the bakery you didn't stay because you wanted to go play with the one you love. So you got fired."

"No, I didn't want to play. I wanted to protect our relationship."

"So did you protect it?"

"No… We broke up."

"Wow. Impressive."

"Thank you." I reached down and got the cake box I was carrying earlier. "This is mango mousse, to show you my work."

"No, that's fine. We're looking for an assistant but you don't quite have the career history for it. I guess not this time. Sorry."

I left the room and was faced with the underground kitchen of the hotel.

"What is this… Once place says I have too much history, another place says I have too little history."

I saw a man, carrying a delicious looking round cake on each hand. I decided to look where he emerged from. Looking through the circular see through window, I can see a lot of pastry chef with their wonderful dessert creations.

I just stood there, staring, wishing that I have the opportunity to be a part of their team.

I pushed the door a bit open, to see more, and smell the delicious aroma of the pastries, bending a little bit so they won't notice me. Gosh. It smells like heaven.

"Are you going in or not?" A silky, but shocking voice broke me from my staring. Unfortunately, I was so shocked that when I moved, my hair got stuck on the button of his coat, right in front of his stomach.

"Oh my gosh. What the hell?!" I tried pulling away. Once. Twice. Three times. It didn't work and it also hurt my scalp a lot.

I heard a deep sigh above me. "Mister. My hair. My hair." I said pointing to my stuck hair."

"Hang on a second, you're hair is stuck."

"Yes. Gently please."

"Ouch!" I yelled. "Mister, why are you pulling it? It freaking hurts!"

"Hold still"

"But you're hurting my hair!" I yelled.

"Just stay still, will you?" He yelled back.

"Why do you have to scream?" I asked irritated. Trying to look at his face.

He stopped trying and said, "Just shut your mouth and stay still."

"WHAT? What did you say? Shut my mouth? You're telling me to shut my mouth?"

I suddenly felt being pulled towards the baking kitchen, where I was just staring at a few minutes earlier. He continued walking while I continued complaining.

"Give me scissors please!" He shouted.

"Are you crazy? What do you mean scissors?" I said when he finally stopped walking. "See what happens if you use scissors."

"Don't you have scissors?" he shouted again.

"What do you mean scissors?"

Someone gave him the pair of scissors he was asking for. Stupid dumb ass.

"I'll just take it out. Sorry, but I don't have time." He held the scissors over my stuck hair when I yelled "Hold on. STOP! See what happens if you cut my hair, I'll sue you."

He smirked and then cut my hair. CUT MY HAIR! My eyes widened. I screamed. I was shocked. I didn't think he would do that. Freaking asshole.

Everything in the room was quiet.

His face seems familiar.

**EPOV**

"You're not an employee here, right? Sue me? I'll sue you for spying on people." Who does this girl think she is? Sue me? In my own property? She must be crazy.

I headed towards Chris, head chef.

"Did you get my message Chris?"

"I got it, but I'm not available today. We can start tomorrow though."

"That won't do. C'mon Chris."

"I'm sorry it's impossible. It's not like I can give you the hotel's stock."

"C'mon Chris. Just enough to cover dinner. That's it."

"I can't."

I heard steps approaching us, so I turned a little and suddenly a cake met my face. A cake held by the crazy spy girl.

"Oh my god." Chris said shocked.

My eyes are closed. How dare she?! I' m trying to reign in my temper now.

"I'm the type of person who can't see people like you. I made this cake so it'll be expensive, but I'm not charging you for it. Eat it well!"

I heard her footsteps stalking off.

I took the piece blocking my eyes by my hand.

"Mr. Cullen, are you okay?" Chris asked.

I spread the icing on my lips, tasting it a little. Suddenly, my eyes widened. Wow. Unbelievable. This cake… It tastes so different. Different good. Could she really have baked this? I need to have some more.

************

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	3. Chapter 3

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Enjoy!

_**Chapter 3**_

_**Interview**_

**BPOV**

"He should know not to cut Bella Swan's hair." I said loudly, entering the restroom. "What a rude, useless man!" Looking in the mirror, I looked how much damage has been done with my hair. It didn't seem much, just a bit on the right side. It won't be obvious for other people, but it sure is obvious for me.

I gasped in realization. I saw a man from the reflection in the mirror, that was trying his best to hide himself, while peeing. I could see the male urinal behind me and then realized that I was once again in a male restroom.

"I wasn't talking to you, but someone else. I'm so sorry. " My cheeks blushed its familiar color and I left the rooms as fast as I could.

I looked around, making sure I'm in the right room. I faced the mirror, fixing my hair. Do I want what happened last Christmas Eve to happen again?

Suddenly, I remembered why his face was so familiar. I was sure I've seen him before somewhere.

"In life there are all kinds of men, but men are men."

Gasp.

* * *

**EPOV**

I kneeled down to taste more of cake, just using my hands, from the box that is currently situated on the floor - mango mousse. I couldn't even stop licking my fingers. It just tasted wonderful. Not too sweet - just perfect. I stood up, and started for the door, while one of the chefs giving me a napkin to wipe my face. I started running, trying to find the lady that baked that cake. I just have to find her. She would be a great asset for my restaurant. And this time, I'm in bad need of a pastry chef. What a perfect timing.

* * *

**BPOV**

I continued walking toward the exit.

What… there are all kinds of men? Well, there are all kinds of women too! Anyway, if he continued that long, he should know I would start too. Hey, now that I think about it, he's a young guy. Even if he dated, how much would he know?

I was nearing the exit when I turned around, and I saw him again, looking for something. – or someone – specifically me.

His head turned my way, and he saw me, lifting his arm, pointing at me, he yelled. "Excuse me."

I was worried – half in panic. Why is he following me? Is he going to sue me? I can't deal with that now. My hair is the one cut, but he did have a point. They can say that I was spying, but of course I wasn't. I was just enjoying the view of the delicious pastries.

I turned toward the exit, rushing so he can't catch me, but kept running after me. Thankfully, a cab was already waiting outside and I went in immediately, yelling for the driver to already drive. But he didn't! Stupid driver!

The gorgeous, arrogant guy kept knocking on my window, willing me to talk to him. But when he saw that the taxi driver isn't moving, he just opened the door. "Can we please talk?" he asked.

"Why are you not driving? Can you just go? Hurry!" I once again yelled to the inconsiderate driver.

"It will just be a minute." He tried to convince me.

"What is this guy trying to do?" The taxi driver asked me. Why doesn't he just dirve? Can#t he see that I'm his customer and I'm the one he's supposed to follow.

The unknown man just suddenly forced himself in the backseat, sitting next to me and slamming the door shut.

I kept yelling complaints to get him the hell out of my taxi. "Hurry up and get out!"

"Where is the madam going?" he asked the driver.

"What do you mean madam? Who's the madam?"

"Is it really important if I call you madam or miss?"

"It is important, stupid jerk. I'm not old nor do I have wrinkles, so where do you get the madam from?!"

"Driver, please go wherever this Miss is going."

"No. I don't agree with him."

"She agrees. I'm her younger brother."

I looked at him annoyed. And the driver started driving. Why does he listen to him and not to me?!

* * *

**EPOV**

So now I've found her. I just have to use my charms and convince her.

I turned to my side and faced her. "The cake a while ago, you said you made it yourself right?"

She wouldn't look at me. "Are you doing this just to ask that question?"

"Did you really make it yourself?"

She snorted. "Whatever." She looked away from me, wanting to ignore me – but I'm not having any of that.

"I don't have time to be playing around right now. Did you make it yourself, yes or no?"

"I made it myself."

"Is it your hobby making cakes?"

"No. It's my job."

"Pastry Chef?"

Now I caught her attention. She finally looked at me, with shocked expression. "Most people don't have a clue."

"Where do you work right now?" I asked. "Bakery, hotel, your own shop?" I was forcefully asking my questions now. She's making me impatient.

She seemed hesitant to answer. "That's… My body is really weak so I'm resting right now."

I immediately took my business card wallet from the inside pocket of my coat, took one and offered it to her. "Here, take this."

"Why should I?"

"Just take it, nothing bad is going to happen."

"No, I don't want to." She replied forcefully.

I used my convincing tone, hoping that she would fall for it. "You'll regret it if you don't take it."

"If you don't get off this taxi, you will regret it. Driver, please stop here, this man is leaving."

I took hold of her wrist, while she resisted, yelling. "What are you doing? Let go."

I put the card into her hand forcefully and finally let go.

She scoffed, glaring at me.

"Since you have it why don't you just look at it?"

"Why should I?"

"To a lady, her hair is very important!"

I took her wrist again, forcing her to look at it. I held in front of her eyes, just a few inches away so she won't have any choice but to look at it.

When she finally did, she looked at it for a long time, then she turned to look at me.

Of course, I gave her my smirk.

* * *

**BPOV**

This guy, sitting right next to me is Edward Cullen, the president of the famous Bon Appetit restaurant here in Seattle. It's one of the most expensive and high class restaurants. And he's the freaking president? The owner? Am I dreaming or what?

"Come tomorrow at 3 with a filled resume and bring a variety of cakes and cookies."

We finally reached my destination. He got of the taxi to let me pass.

His hands still in the door, he said, "I don't like it when people are late. Be on time at 3." He then went in the cab again.

I knocked on the window, willing him to open it for me.

"I think it's too much for tomorrow. I need to find a place to bake and get all the ingredients."

"Where do you usually bake?"

"Someone I know has a bakery school."

"Today and tomorrow are weekends. Do they have classes on weekends too?"

"I still need to get the ingredients. Even though I can get most of them, there are few that are hard to find."

"Just make it with whatever ingredients you can get. It shows if you're a real chef or not." He started closing the window. I knocked on it again, before it was fully closed.

"Just wondering… how old are you?"

He looked at me like he wanted me to explain so I continued. "Because you look so young, I thought you were a swindler."

He sneered at me. "Did you just sneer at me?" I asked him, a bit upset.

"No."

"You just sneered at me."

He just closed the windows and ignored my knocking, and the taxi left, just like that.

"That jerk!"

* * *

_The next morning_

We were sitting in his office, he looking at my resume, and me drinking a cup of coffee.

"Did you use photoshop?"

"Yes"

"Next time, don't. You look like a different person."

"Name is Isabella Swan, you have quite an old age."

"So?"

He looked at me.

"Never mind, continue reading it." I said.

"Went to school in Paris and worked as intern for 2 years." He looked up at me. " If you went to study in Paris, why didn't you go to college?"

"I didn't do well in my studies."

"Then how did you manage to stay in that school?"

"In this world, there are three ways to communicate - music, art and food."

"Then why did you come back? You could have fought and continued to learn there."

"My father past away suddenly. There was something wrong with his heart." I said.

He looked away from me, seeming not to push the subject, and went back to reading my resume.

It's positive that he doesn't remember me, I thought rejoicing. If he did, why would he be acting so… indifferently?

* * *

We went to the restaurant part and the waitress with a strawberry blond hair and sexy body set the pastries I baked on the table, leaving afterwards, but not before giving me a calculating glare.

Mr. Cullen, the restaurant's manager and the head chef tasted my baking while I sat opposite them, watching their expressions. Mrs. Carmen Varner as she introduced herself was the store manager, and Mr. Jasper Whitlock, was the head chef.

Mrs. Varner and Mr. Whitlock seemed to be enjoying themselves. They looked towards each other and nodded. It seemed like a good sign so I smiled. But when I looked at Mr. Cullen, his face was natural – no indication whether he liked it or not. My smile vanished.

Mr. Whitlock broke the silence. "So. You prepared this. The appearance is very simple –"

"Because I couldn't get all the ingredients I needed. I made it with whatever I could." I glanced at Mr. Cullen, "I just got the appointment yesterday. It would have been better if I had more time."

"No, it's not that. The appearance didn't change the taste of the cake. But the cake is very good. Excellent job!"

"Thank you." I said, smiling widely.

"Also, the chocolate and the case – the taste was very different. Did you personally make the case?"

"Yes. Putting my homemade chocolate in to the case I made is a basic principle for me."

"Oh really? Why is that?"

"Inside the chocolate case is the life of a person. Have you ever watched the movie Forest Gump?"

He nodded.

"In the movie, the main character's mother once said, 'Life is like a box full of chocolates, whichever one you choose, no one knows.'" I turned to Mr. Cullen, "You don't remember that?"

"I haven't watched it" he replied.

"If you have time you should watch it." I turned back to the chef and manager, "Anyway, my becoming a pastry chef was unplanned for. Once, I went to a library and there without thinking, I pulled out a book, and that book was about French bakery. If that book was about taking care of baby chickens, who knows if I would be taking care of baby chickens right now." I smiled.

Both Mr. Whitlock and Mrs. Varner laughed, but when I looked at Mr. Cullen, he was staring at somewhere else, his face void of any emotions.

"Now whatever I pick up, changes me very much."

"So all the chocolates you've made so far, have all of them been good?" Mrs. Varner spoke for the first time, smiling gently.

"No, there were good ones, and there were bad ones. However, there's nothing we can do about it. That case is mine, and I had to eat all the chocolate in it anyway. When and what I will eat, that makes the difference."

I seem to be impressing both the chef and manager. They were smiling the entire time, nodding at each other.

I continued. "But from then to now, it might have been different. When I was a child, I didn't have any fear and just ate everything I saw. But now… I think a lot and sit, picking which one to eat. If I wanted anything more, it would be for no more bitter rum to be in my chocolates. There won't be any chocolate with bitter rum in it. Because for 30 years, I've already eaten and destroyed all of them. That's all."

"Since you figured that out so early, it's like saying the chocolate made with bitter rum is split in half. Is there anything more you need to ask?" Mrs. Varner asked Mr. Cullen.

"No." He responded. "Okay. Let's work together. Work starts at 10 am and ends at 10 pm. The bakery is earlier than the others."

"Oh, she seems to know that already." Mr. Whitlock interfered. "Work starts at 7am and ends at 8pm, depending on the situation, it can end later."

I hid my laugh – seems like Mr. Cullen doesn't know his restaurant that well.

Mr. Cullen continued, "3 – 5pm is the time to get ready for dinner. Cleaning is every other third Mondays. Also, every three months is when we appoint an employee to a higher position."

"Hold on." I interrupted.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Under one condition."

"A condition?"

"Yes, a condition." I confirmed.

* * *

So… what do you guys think?? Is it okay? Confused?

Any kind of feedback please! xD

Feel free to ask questions! =)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_**Working**_

**EPOV**

Walking in my office, I told Ms. Swan, "Just to tell you, our restaurant does not copy other restaurant's food. Jasper, our main chef here, is American but has been working for a French hotel for 10 years until he came here. Please have a seat." I gestured to the chair opposite my desk. "The pastry chef was also here, but had to leave because of certain matters. Isabella Swan, we know that you studied in Paris, but that is not enough."

"Are you finished yet?" She asked me.

"Don't think too much like I'm the boss. We have a comfortable environment here so just call me Edward." Although most of the staff still called me 'Mr. Cullen'. I don't know why, but I guess they're just intimidated by me. Now that I think about it, only Jasper and Maggie calls me with my first name…. But Maggie is already in her late 40s; it'd be weird if she called me 'Mr. Cullen'. As for Jasper, we're mates. No need for the formality.

"Are you finished now?" she pushed.

"For now, work for 30 days. We will see whether or not you can work full time then."

"So that means I can get fired?"

"If someone doesn't have the skills, isn't that necessary?" Is she serious? What if she's not even competent enough? My restaurant won't accept that. I'm just really need someone for the bakery right now and she really seemed to bake good cake. Plus, what she said in those interview – it got me thinking.

"Okay, fine. Do it like that. Can I talk now?" She answered, somewhat irritated.

"I'd like it if you can start tomorrow."

"I said under one condition." She raised her voice slightly, since I'm not giving me any chance to speak.

"What is it?" I finally humored her.

"Change Isabella Swan to Rosalie Swan please."

I looked at her like she's out of her mind. Maybe she _is _out of her mind.

"Make the name Isabella Swan to Rosalie Swan." She said with a serious look. I continued calculating her face and expressions. Is she kidding me? That's the condition?

"I mean… it doesn't cost any money, and it's just to the employees here. You can do that, can't you? You're the president here." She tried to justify her condition.

"Why would I have to do that?" I asked in complete wonder.

"What do you mean why?"

"Why do we need to call Isabella Swan, Rosalie Swan?

"Then would you like it if I called you Eddie?"

"My name isn't Eddie Cullen, but Edward Cullen. I'm not Eddie."

"Who doesn't know that?"

"Then why do you ask?" This woman is starting to irritate me.

We were staring down each other.

"You're messing around with me, aren't you?

"Why would I? I smirked.

"This is unbelievable." She complained.

I sighed deeply. "Then let's do this. It's not my business why you want to change your name, unless, you're a criminal, in which case you should remember that I can call the police anytime… So… You can choose any name but Rosalie." I crossed my arms.

"Why are you taking out the name Rosalie?"

"Isabella Swan. Rosalie Swan. Take out those two names. You can choose any name you want."

"Why does that have to be like that?" She insisted.

"You don't need to know that."

"No! I have to be Rosalie Swan. Also, just like you, you don't need to know my reason for it"

"I don't like it when people copy what I say."

"Same with me. Call me Rosalie or go find yourself another pastry chef."

She glared at me and I to her. It seemed like we're playing a game of staring each other down.

She broke the silence. "Fine. Forget it, I give up. Go find another party chef." She stood up quickly and started to leave.

"Rosalie." I said loudly, to stop her from walking.

She stopped.

"Rosalie Swan." I said the two words, forcing them out of my mouth, somewhat more quiet than my usual tone.

She turned to me. "What is it, boss?"

"Why does it…" I can't seem to continue my sentence. There seem to be something blocking my throat. But I need to man up now, and finish this business.

"Why does it what?" she asked.

"Why does it have to be Rosalie?" I asked my voice sounding just above a whisper.

"Do you want to know?"

"Yes, I want to know" Why would one want to change their name?

She quirked her eyebrows. "I want to know why you want to know."

"That is a private answer, so I can't tell you that." My expression hardening.

"Oh… I see. Same with me, but I'll tell you anyway. However, I'll tell you when I become a full time employee. Okay?"

Then she turned around and left.

* * *

Alice POV

Finally – I'm going back to Seattle. I miss my hometown very much. It calls for a celebration though the reason I'm here certainly doesn't call for a celebration. My mom would kill me. But who cares? I'm back. That's all that matters. Right now, this wine just seems to be perfect.

"Excuse me." I said bouncing in my seat, talking to the woman sitting right beside me, next to the window of this plane craft. "This is too much to drink by myself. Would you like a drink?"

I would think that being 34 years old would make me less energetic than I was when I was in my 20s. But it seems like that is characteristic of mine that can never be erased. Well, it sure comes in handy when you want to befriend someone.

She nodded, smiling widely. She's beautiful, gorgeous blond hair, with perfect body figure. Not that I can clearly see but from how it looks like, I would have mistaken her for a model. Her skin looks very smooth. Maybe she is. I just hope she's not one of those bitches. She's seems friendly enough or else she wouldn't have talked to me, a few years younger though, I think in her middle 20s.

I couldn't seem to shut my mouth. I just need to release these sorrows in my heart. "Do you know how they measure the reflection of rocks in a Rorschach test? You put a 30cm white disc in the water until it goes deep into the mud until you can't see it. That's how you measure it… In this country do you know how many meters the reflection of the tallest dam is? It's almost 230 meters! But… you can't measure the reflections in a person's heart. I figured that out to some degree… Up to now, it's a divorced lady speaking… Alice Swan" I ended up sullenly but I regained my composure and started with a full smile again. "So what did you do in England for 3 years?"

"Hi Alice. Pleasure to meet you, I'm Rosalie Hale." she replied, with a small smile, shaking my hands. "England has taught me many things."

"Particularly?"

"I will become the best doctor." She said with a full grin.

"You're a doctor?" I asked with a hint of surprise in my voice. A woman as pretty as her – a doctor? That's unheard of. I would have really pegged her as a model, but never have I dreamed that someone like her wants to be a doctor. But life is full of surprises, isn't it? Well, good for her. She has the looks and the brains – or else she wouldn't be a doctor, or, she could've – let's say sucked her way up the university? But I doubt it. She doesn't seem to be that kind of woman.

"I'm still a student… But, have you noticed that guy over there has been staring at us?"

I looked at the spot where she pointed, and I met the glance of the middle-aged man who looked away quickly.

"I've noticed. But, aren't you curious who he's looking at?"

She nodded and stood up to ask the guy. Wow, this girl has guts.

"Hello. How are you? I'm Rosalie Hale. It's been a while since you've been looking at us." I heard her say faintly. But it's not that clear because the man was seating a couple of rows in front of us.

"So?" he replied.

"I was wondering who were you looking at, me or my friend?"

He sneered and looked at her up and down. I was sure he'd say her. I mean, who wouldn't stare at that kind of perfection? "I was looking because you were being so loud. What kind of actions are those on a plane?" He answered pissed off.

She just smirked at him and returned to our seat. Not seeming to contain my laughter, I burst out into loud giggles together with my newfound friend. I may be a couple of years older than her, but she's cool.

"Rosalie, I didn't think you were like that. And you boldly stood up and asked him."

"I'm so glad I got to come back. When I left 3 years ago, I thought I could never come back." She sighed.

"By any chance… did you run away?"

She gasped, a little bit exaggerated. "How did you know?" she asked and we both burst into laughter again, toasting.

"Welcome back." I said.

* * *

BPOV

"I'll introduce a new member to our family who'll be working with us starting today. Our new pastry chef – Isa"

I looked at him pointedly.

He corrected himself. "Rosalie Swan."

They all applauded. We were standing on the platform, where a baby grand piano was situated in the middle of the classy restaurant. All the workers gathered in front of us. As I've learned, this is a tradition they always do to welcome new comers.

My cheek flushed a little but I ignored it. 30 years of my life I spent being shy. It's time to get over that. But it's always easier said than done. "Thank you for welcoming me. I am Rosalie Swan and it's a great pleasure to be working with all of you."

I saw Edward at the corner of my eyes, smirking at me for the name I introduced myself.

"How old are you?" the strawberry blond waitress who served the cakes in the day of my interview asked.

The room suddenly became quiet. There was a short pause. "Does age really matter?"

"Of course, so we know whether you're our senior or not." She had an evil look in her eyes.

"I'm 30" and she laughed – loudly mind you. I was glad she was the only one who did so. The others didn't find what was humorous with my age.

"Oh, 30" she continued. "The half of 60… So you're 2 years older than me. You're the oldest from us all." She stood up and said, " Let's all clap for our senior with the oldest age." She started clapping. At first, she was alone, the rest of the crew hesitating to join her, but they eventually applauded loudly.

* * *

The locker room was also awesome. It seemed like those locker rooms in a high-class gyms – made of fine wood, glossy. A locker would've been enough to share for two people, but we still get our own. I finally got to change to my all white chef dress uniform, with a yellow scarf, indicating that I was a newbie. I got my nametag, a small oval thing, stating – "Rosalie".

"You are all dead." I winked at the mirror.

* * *

Angela, a pastry chef trainee, was giving me a tour of the whole restaurant. She's young. In her early 20s. I think she just got out of a special chef school, but she doesn't have experience. I would actually need to train her.

"Here is the kitchen. Other Italian restaurants need to boil the pasta. They always need to boil so they need a lot of pots but it's different here."

"What's with the unusual noise?" Jasper asked.

Angela pulled me out of the kitchen and continued, "He was 19 when he went on a backpacking trip to Europe and decided to live there. He learned how to cook pasta there and Mr. Cullen scouted him while moving here.

Mrs. Varner takes care of regulations every month. She used to be an elementary teacher. Looks like she has a special relationship with Mr. Cullen, but we don't know the exact truth. She looks strict in the first glance, but when you actually get to know her, she's quite nice. But of course, she doesn't refuse to put you in place when she need to." Carmen looks like she's in her late 40s. She seemed like the mother figure to all of us.

We heard a whining tone from one of the corners of the restaurant. "These things haven't been cleaned yet, so why the hell did you bring these out?" The strawberry blond scolded one of the waitresses while throwing the eating utensils back to its container.

We were going around the restaurant, with Angela showing me around. "Don't socialize much with her. Her name is Tanya, but she's a real bitch. Somehow, for an unknown reason, she hates her name, and wants us to call her something else, which doesn't really stick to my mind, so I don't care, and everybody still calls her Tanya despite her whining about it. It's just that she has been working here the longest so yeah.. I think it because of her childhood experiences or something to do with her drunken father. She's a little impudent to the new comers, but it shows how truthful she is, so it's alright." By this time, we reached the entrance so we went outside. "She might act like that to you, so step on her with your age, okay?"

"Why is she like that to new employees?" I wondered out loud.

"Girls newbie. Not all newbies. She's interested in the president." Angela whispered.

"That jerk?" I said loudly. I mean he looks all good and attractive, but his attitude certainly negates all the good looks he has.

"He's a jerk?" I heard her say with a bit of protectiveness.

"No, he can be so…"

"I think he's cute." She said with a shy smile.

"No, Jasper's kind of face is cute… The president… the president is – "

Her face was leaning towards me, really curious about what I'm going to say next.

"I guess he's good looking" I said so I won't disappoint her. I'm sure if I said something bad about Edward, or the president or Mr. Cullen, as most of the crew calls him – I'll be getting in deep trouble.

"He's even tall, can do any sports. He's suave, and he can look sad. Not to mention his bronze bed-hair that's so messy all the time you want to run your fingers through it every time… and his sparkling green eyes… and he can look sad too." She said dreamily.

"You like the president?" I asked, interrupting her gush.

She seemed speechless, her mouth opening and closing without releasing any words. I'm not the only one, all the girls here do." She said blushing, then she stomped away.

It's not a restaurant but a fan club dedicated to him. Why are people making me laugh these days? This is just plain ridiculous.

* * *

Getting back to my work, I was watching this couple who got a new diamond ring from his husband. I was the one who made that cake and I feel very happy for the both of them. I stood there, hiding from the customer's sight, adoring the lady's expression. Her expression was stunning, and the diamond ring too!

"What are you looking at?" Angela asked me.

"What kind of luck do you need for a husband like that living a life of luxury, going to a restaurant that's above $100 per person and get a diamond ring that's a size of a bean?"

"Jealous?"

"Yeah. Very." I said while nodding.

* * *

Yup.. Alice is a Swan… =)

I know it may be weird that Bella wants to change her name, but it's one of the factors in the story… xD

Please keep an open mind. ^^,

So the only siblings here is Alice and Bella. Jasper and Rosalie aren't connected, and there won't be much interaction between them…

Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Guesses?

Please write some feedback, even just with 2 words. I would really appreciate it. =)


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